His Other Life

Chapter 36

THIRTY-SIX

ISLA

Present day

Day and night slipped into each other. Isla kept her blinds drawn, her phone off, and only rummaged through the kitchen for food when she thought her mom was out. Her comforter was her friend, and the silence of her room a boon. Somewhere out there, the world was still revolving around a life-giving star, but why that mattered, Isla had forgotten. Without a next step to take, without someone pointing out a direction, she may as well stay where she was. Wasn’t that the thing with fate? It would find you?

Well, here I am , Isla thought. Come get me .

Mom had other ideas. When five days had passed since the news about Gemma, Nancy stormed into Isla’s room, snapped the curtains open, and pulled the comforter from Isla’s prone body with a forceful “swish.”

“Enough,” she said. “It’s Tuesday. You have a job to do.”

Isla curled into a ball and groaned. “Tell them I’m sick.”

“But you’re not, are you? Come on. Get up.”

Isla pried open one eye and took in her mother’s shape at the side of the bed. Straight back, crossed arms. It brought back memories from high school. “Fine.”

“Good.” Mom nodded. “And open the window. It smells like a moth-eaten closet in here.” She turned on her heel and disappeared.

Isla sat up and yawned. Work. Mom wasn’t wrong—it was a commitment. If she didn’t show up, one of the other delivery people would have to take on a heavier load, and that wouldn’t be right. No, she’d go, do her job, and then she could come back here. She’d have to talk to Stan first though, because there was no way she’d keep Mav on her route.

“I made you some coffee.” Mom nodded toward the table when Isla emerged from her den minutes later. “And I don’t need the car today so if you’d prefer to drive over biking…”

The protest was on Isla’s tongue. I don’t drive. But then she remembered that had changed. Despite herself, this instantly made the prospect of working less of a burden.

“Thanks,” she said.

Mom crossed the kitchen and kissed her on the forehead. “You’re welcome.”

Stan was in his office as usual when Isla arrived, and he brightened at the sight of her. “How was your trip?” he asked. “Nice vacation?”

“Um.” Isla took a seat across from him. “Sure.”

“Very good. Well, we’re glad to have you back. Ready to roll?”

There was no easy way to say it, so Isla blurted, “I’ll need to make a change to my route first.”

“Oh?”

“I won’t be delivering to Maverick Zuft anymore. You’re going to have to put someone else on him.” She forced herself to look straight at Stan.

He frowned. “You too? What’s with this guy? Did something happen?”

Turns out he’s my lying, cheating grandfather … “No, just a, um, personality clash. I’m happy to swap with someone.”

Stan seemed satisfied with her answer and started scanning his client file on the computer. “Huh,” he said. “Looks like Mr. Zuft cancelled his service anyway.”

Isla startled. “He did? Why?”

Stan shrugged. “Maybe the personality clash was mutual?”

Isla seethed. It was one thing for her to drop Mav, but she hadn’t been prepared for him to drop her. What if he was leaving? The thought left a bitter taste on her tongue.

“Anyway, that means you can keep your route and skip his place. Easy-peasy. The boxes should be ready in the back as usual.”

Driving cut down the time her route took by almost half, and Isla was back home again early afternoon. Mom was nowhere to be seen, and Ulysses didn’t budge from his spot on the couch even when she called his name. A beam of sunlight that had broken through the cloud cover illuminated him like a spotlight where he slept, and she supposed she could relate to that. Her bed was her next destination.

Or so she thought. But when she changed into sweats and was about to pull down her blinds, her stomach growled. And after she’d eaten, she decided to do a load of laundry. And after she’d put the laundry in the washer, she wasn’t tired anymore. She stood for a while in the middle of the living room, listening to the purring snores of her cat while pondering what to do next. She could check her messages, clean her room, watch a movie…

A movie. Isla’s reflection in the dark TV screen was distant and distorted. Before she could change her mind, she went for the storage box under her bed where she’d hidden the wedding tape weeks ago. Like an addict returning to her vice, there was a calm associated with holding it in her hands—the angular case, the click it made when she opened it. It made it easier to breathe.

Rushing as if afraid someone would walk in on her, she turned the TV on and inserted the disc, then she scooted back on the floor and hit play.

For the past two years, this had been her happy place. With the tape playing, she’d escaped into the past, lulled by the impervious state of her younger self and the hopefulness she knew she’d once possessed. After what had happened last week, she yearned to go there again.

As the disc loaded, Isla readied herself for the relief she knew would come with the first chord of the wedding march. Her posture eased in anticipation the same way favorite foods could make one salivate, only this time, the melodic first morsel came and went without satisfaction.

There was Jonah on the screen, seeing her at the altar. Isla leaned forward, willing the poignancy of the moment to settle at her core the way it had so many other times.

Who’s Gemma? her mind asked instead. Please tell me.

And there was her dad, and Nana and Pop-Pop, but instead of a happy trio, she now saw a wider picture with Mav looming somewhere off camera. Too many secrets.

Isla didn’t even make it to the vows before she turned the video off. She rubbed her face and glared at the TV. Behind her on the couch, Ulysses stretched, his paws prodding against her shoulder as if to ask what she’d do now.

“Back in the box with you,” she muttered, ejecting the disc.

With nothing else calling for her attention, Isla ended up back in bed after all. She wanted to sleep, not because she was tired, but because it demanded less of her than being awake, but when you’d already had ten plus hours of snooze, dreamland didn’t come easy.

After trying for a solid thirty minutes, Isla flipped over on her side with a groan, her eyes landing on Nana’s box on her desk. The worn cardboard looked even older next to her laptop and metal organizers.

Might as well , she thought, flinging the comforter aside.

The seven letters were light in her hand as she spread them across her bed. She took each folded paper out of its envelope and arranged them by date. The first one was from March 1952 and Isla’s hand trembled as she picked it up. Dear Nurse Cass , she read. You were an angel to me… stay safe.

With each line of text, the picture solidified further—how Nana and Mav had found kinship in their shared experience in Korea, in their love of books, in future dreams, and how their feelings had budded and bloomed into more than a distant connection. Granted, she only had Mav’s side, but there were hints at what Nana’s sentiments might have been hidden within his words.

Isla did a double take at the name Mav had given his dog—Pip—because Nana had named one of their cats the same thing years later. Clearly, Nana hadn’t forgotten Mav, but it made no sense to Isla why she’d deliberately invited in the memory like that. What purpose would that serve other than to worry the scab?

Isla picked up the hummingbird figurine and ran her fingertips over its delicate wings.

“I’m worried I’ll hurt her,” she’d said to Nana the first time she was allowed to hold the delicate thing.

But Nana had reassured her. “They look fragile, and they can be, especially when they’re made of porcelain, but did you know hummingbirds are also fierce and resilient? They travel long distances alone, and they protect their home and families like warriors.”

That had been the start of Isla’s obsession.

Now, she brought the bird to the curio cabinet where she kept her collection and placed it next to its mate. The shape of one fit beneath the wing of the other. The symmetry finally settled Isla more than the wedding video had managed. How odd to think that if not for Mav encouraging her to go on the road trip, she would never have found her way to the box.

“Were you not angry with him after what he did?” she whispered. “Did you want us to meet?”

But as with so many of her other questions, this one, too, lacked an answer.